


Hey Honey Hey

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: It wasn't Nora that was captured and tortured, but Charlie
Relationships: Charlie Matheson/Bass Monroe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all folks. Merry Christmas.

*Moonlight and Fireflies all burning and glowing and lighting up the night*

She’s nearly six months pregnant when she stumbles back into Willoughby, exhausted, malnourished, and unable to outrun any of her demons, unaware that the biggest demon of all has followed her home. 

Leaning against the side of a building, she’s trying to decide if she’s going to pass out or throw up when she hears someone calling her name as if from a distance.

“Charlie? Charlie is that you?” Aaron questions, his face floating in and out of focus. 

“Aaron?” she asks, her head spinning as she reaches out for him only to collapse at his feet. 

“Help! Someone Help!” Aaron shouts, sinking to his knees next to her, his eyes inspecting her for any visible injuries as he grasps her shoulder.

* * *

Charlie stirs as the morning sun shines through a set of windows, illuminating her face as the curtains billow in a light breeze, stirring her hair. 

Slowly opening her eyes, she immediately recognizes her grandpa’s sunroom. A light reflects above her and she follows the tubing from a half full bottle, down to her elbow, where it’s attached to a needle, inserted in the crook of her arm. 

A noise in the corner of the room grabs her attention, causing her to jerk her head up, before it falls back against her pillow. 

“Uncle Miles?” she croaks out, her voice rusty from disuse. 

Startling awake from where he had dozed off, Miles scrambles the few steps to reach her side, bending towards her as he reaches out to touch her face with his hand. 

“Hey, you. You’re awake,” he says with a shuddering breath, smiling down at her. “How do you feel?”

“Naked,” she groans, pulling the sheet up higher, “Where the hell are my clothes?” 

Miles can’t help but chuckle. “Your grandpa wanted to make sure you stayed put. Taking your clothes away was one sure way. Besides,” he shrugs, ”they really didn’t fit anymore, did they?” 

He watches as she turns her head away from him, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me, Charlie?”

“Probably because I didn’t want to talk about it,” she replies, suddenly angry. 

“Charlie, this isn’t just something you can brush under the carpet and ignore. You’re having a baby in three months and we both know who it belongs to,” he finishes with a hiss, so that Gene doesn’t overhear them.

“You don’t know anything, Miles. I was under the influence of psychotropics. I didn’t know what I was saying,” she reminds him with the jut of her chin. 

“We’re not done with this conversation,” he mutters as Gene comes bustling into the room. “I’ll go heat some water for a bath,” he tells the doctor, dragging a hand through his hair as he leaves the room, his mind drifting back to that fateful day in Atlanta. 

_“Get out of the way, get out of the way!” Miles bellows as he bursts through the hospital doors, looking around wildly, before hearing a woman call out._

_“General! Over here!”_

_Hurrying over to the bed, his eyes run up and down Charlie’s form before reaching out to caress her cheek. “Hey, it's me. It's me, Charlie, Wha- What happened? I've been looking everywhere for you, trying to find you.”_

_“Miles?” Charlie questions as she wriggles on the bed clearly agitated. “Where’s Bass? Has he made it here yet? He’s so anxious to see you. He loves you, Miles,” she pleads anxiously before falling back under the pull of whatever drug she’s been under._

_“Oh Charlie,” Miles breathes clearly horrified, holding her face in his palms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”_

Once her bath is ready, Miles makes his way back to the sunroom. Gene has her sitting up in bed, drinking a mug of broth. The IV is nowhere in sight. 

“Are you ready for a bath?” he asks, his lips forming a straight line like it does when he’s annoyed. 

“Grandpa can help me. God knows he’s seen everything that matters,” she mutters, scooting off the bed. Dragging the sheet along with her, she catches herself on the side of the bed as she wobbles dizzily. 

With a shake of his head, Miles scoops her into his arms, causing her to squeak. Her cheeks flame with embarrassment. 

Arching a brow, Miles dares her to protest and nods in satisfaction when she clamps her mouth shut. Carrying her out to the back porch, he sets her on her feet and leaves her alone, calling out for Gene as he steps back inside the house. 

With a sigh, Charlie drops the sheet and steps into the steaming tub, lowering herself into its heated depths, drowning in her memories. 

  
  


_She’s lying trapped in the ruins of the north tower, crying out for help, the dust from the destroyed building clogging her lungs. The more she struggles, the more the tower tightens it grip on her. All she can do is wait for someone to rescue her._

_When she's finally dug out, it’s not Jason or Miles that greets her, but instead Militia soldiers, and she has no choice but to surrender. She’s never been one for praying, but she prays that Miles finds her soon._

_But her prayers are not to be answered._

_Within the next few days, she’s shuttled North along with a few others that were captured with her. No one knows what happened to Miles, Nora or Jason after the bombs went off._

_When she’s taken off the train, a bag is shoved over her head and her hands are tied behind her back before being manhandled into a wagon where she’s driven to an unknown destination._

_When the bag is finally yanked off her head, she’s knocked off balance and falls to the floor. Before she can get her hair out of her face, she hears a voice she’s only heard one other time in her life._

_“Charlotte. What a pleasure to see you again.”_

_Flipping her hair away from her face, Charlie lifts her head, meeting the stormy blue eyes of President Monroe._

* * *

She’s upstairs in yet another room napping when her mother finally returns with several pairs of maternity pants, blouses, underwear and bras. 

She says thank you for the new bras alone. 

“Charlie, you know you can talk to me,” Rachel says, wringing her hands at the end of the bed. “If you have any questions about the pregnancy or birth, I’d be happy to answer them for you.”

Charlie gives her a frigid smile. “You forget. I was raised by a doctor.”

Rachel stays silent for a moment, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, taking Charlie’s hand in her own. “Miles says that you were taken prisoner for a few weeks before the tower. Did someone rape you, Charlie? Is that why you ran away?”

Charlie slowly pulls her hand away from her mother, bringing it to rest upon the swell of her stomach. “I’d like to get dressed now if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Rachel agrees with a bob of her head, retreating silently from the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Picking out a new outfit, Charlie dresses, giving a sigh of relief at the loose fitting clothes. As she stands in front of the mirror brushing her hair and pulling it into a braid, she’s bombarded with images of Monroe moving above her, murmuring love words in her ear, and stroking her skin as she begged him to make love to her, clutching him to her as he emptied himself inside of her. Slamming her eyes shut, she turns away from her reflection. Choking back the bitterness of those memories, she has no idea that same man is across town meeting with her uncle in secret.

* * *

It’s a few weeks after her return and she’s in town with her Grandpa, trying to avoid her mother when the town bell starts ringing and wagons full of not only Patriots, but also Texans start rolling through. 

When she sees a wagon with a cage in the back of it rolling towards her, she gets a bad feeling in her gut and when it pulls even with her and she meets Bass’ eyes, she nearly loses it, forcing herself to take deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. Aaron, who was standing nearby, grasps a hold of her elbow when she takes a step forward, stopping her from doing anything stupid. 

She gathers in the square with the rest of the town as the Texas president announces his intention to have Bass executed. 

In a panic, she turns, searching for her uncle.

* * *

_A_ _soldier opens the door to the beautifully appointed bedroom she’s been put in,_ _and a string of maids haul in bath water, filling up the tub setting in the corner of the room. Once they’re gone, he_ _shoves a box towards her._

_“Open it,” he barks._

_She does and lifts her eyes from the box back to the soldier._

_“You have an hour to bathe and dress,” he informs her curtly before stepping back out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind her._

_Closing her eyes, Charlie takes a deep breath and removes her clothes, slipping into the bath. She makes use of the soap, brush and washcloth that are lying nearby, before climbing out and drying off with a soft, fluffy towel that smells of lavender and roses._

_Pulling the dress out of the box, she pulls the white knee length dress over her head. Letting it fall into place, she turns to the full length mirror in the corner and contemplates her reflection._

_She looks young._

_Virginal._

_She doesn’t anticipate this ending well._

_Before long the soldier is back. He ushers her out the door, through the hall and down the stairs. She's barefoot, and the only noise to give away her presence is the fabric of her dress, rustling around her knees. With two additional soldiers falling in behind her, she’s herded towards a door where two other soldiers stand guard, opening the door as she nears._

_She slows her steps when she sees Monroe, standing next to a dinner table that has been ornately laid out with china and crystal, dozens of candles reflecting their light off the surface of the waxed table._

_Once she’s finished inspecting the room, her eyes return to Monroe._

_“That dress looks great on you, Charlotte. God, I'm glad you're here,” Monroe says with a small smile and a sigh as he takes her hand. “Family is in such short supply nowadays. Please. Sit,” he insists as he leads her to the table._

_Listening to Miles voice in her head, she silently takes a seat as she eyes the guards in the room. As soon as she’s seated, Monroe picks up a bottle of amber colored liquor and begins to pour._

_Charlie looks from the glass to Monroe. “No, thank you, I don’t drink.”_

  
  


_“Really?” Bass asks in amusement, a charming smile on his face. “But you’re a Matheson.”_

_Charlie purses her lips for a moment. “What do you want from me?” she asks softly, making sure to keep her voice on a nice even keel, but she’s pretty sure he can hear the way it shakes anyway._

_“Just a nice evening,” Monroe replies, moving around to her other side. Moving her hair off her shoulder, he bends down and reaches to turn the bottle label in their direction. “That's Miles' brand,” he says softly next to her ear. “Did you know that? He’s always had such impeccable taste for the finer things. Sometimes, I'd get a little jealous of the things he had,” he continued, sniffing her hair, before standing and running a hand across her shoulders, the heat of his hands causing her to shiver and her nipples to peak in the cool room. “Oh, the stories I’ve heard about the two of you and the things he’s been teaching you. People are calling you Matheson’s Angel of Death. Did you know that?” he asks, propping himself against the table so that he can look down at her._

_“I’m no angel,” she scoffs, giving him a derisive look that would have Miles shaking his head in disappointment._

_“Of that, I'm sure,” he replies with an amused smirk on his face. “Charlotte, where’s your Uncle? For his sake, I'm gonna give you one chance. So let's make it civilized.”_

_Never taking her eyes from him, Charlie reaches out to grab the bottle and stands at the same time, but Monroe is faster and catches her arm, causing her to fling the bottle to the ground as he slams her against the table, the prongs of a fork stabbing her in the chest._

_“That was an expensive bottle, Charlotte, but I’m not angry. I can see we’re simply going to have to do this another way.” Nodding his head at one of the guards, he presses his lips to Charlie’s temple as she struggles beneath him. “This will only hurt for a moment, my love, then I’ll take you to bed,” he whispers._

_The last thing she remembers is a needle being plunged into her neck._

* * *

As they walk along Main Street, Miles tells her all about the wanted posters with their family’s name on them and how Bass has been helping him trying to get proof against the Patriots so that Texas will recognize the threat against them. There’s no mention of how he miraculously found them shortly after Charlie’s return or of the events that might have led to his capture. 

As they stop on the side of the road, Charlie looks up at him. “I count 10, maybe 12 guards out front, Miles. It's too many.”

“Now that Texas is dry-humping the Patriots, there’s no way we can win without him. We gotta get him out, Charlie.” 

Closing her eyes, she hangs her head, a pained expression crossing her features. “Okay. Tell me the plan.”

* * *

Marching into the jail, Charlie demands to see the prisoner. The younger Patriot that’s sitting at the first desk she comes to, stammers, surprised by not only her sudden appearance, but also by her condition. Rolling her eyes, she looks over at the older Ranger, who lowers his paper to take her in. With an arched brow, he gives her a one sided smirk. 

“Five minutes,” he instructs the man in front of her. 

Following the soldier back to the cells, Charlie simply stands there eyeing him until he closes the outer door, leaving her in the area outside the cells alone.

She watches as Monroe lifts his head, meeting her eyes, before getting to his feet and shuffling over to the bars. 

“Charlotte?” he asks, tilting his head as if he can’t really believe what he’s seeing, his eyes landing on her visibly pregnant belly. “Is it mine?” he asked, his voice as tired sounding as his eyes look. 

_Everything is a blur for a while. If this is torture, it’s the most exquisite._

_He gets angry when she calls him Monroe, so she quickly learns to call him Bass after he leaves her alone for hours, denying her his body in anger. She craves the feel of his body pressed against hers as they lay in bed, his lips and tongue doing the most wonderful things to her body, even if he does ask about her uncle._

_As his hands explore her body, causing her to cry out in pleasure, she never realizes that she’s more prone to answer his questions as his fingerprints leave marks on her hips and he bottoms out inside of her. After a month of being in his bed, she ignores the pinch in her neck if it means he’ll wrap himself around her, bringing her pleasure that leaves her flying for hours. She’ll tell him anything he wants to know as long as he stays buried inside her._

When she remains silent, he begins to pick at the knot on the bandana at his wrist. 

“You’ll probably want to keep that information to yourself, my children’s mothers tend to die unpleasant deaths.” Unwrapping the bandana, he holds it out to her. “Take it,” he said gruffly, pressing it against her chest, forcing her to grasp it or let it fall. 

“What is it?” she finally asks, holding it in her hand. 

“Diamonds. My parents’ wedding rings. Don’t need em where I’m going, but hopefully it’ll help. If you plan on keeping it, that is.”

Looking down at the bandana she takes a breath. “Why did you follow me?” 

Bass swallowed thickly, clearly upset. “I needed you to lead me to Miles and your mom. I knew they were going to need my help with these sons of bitches. I also knew I could never make up for what I did to you, but I had to try.” 

Charlie sucked in a shaky breath, opening her mouth to say, she doesn’t _know_ what, when the door behind her opens noisily. 

“Times up, Miss,” the young patriot says from the doorway.

“Hold your goddamn horses,” Bass barks, causing the young man’s mouth to snap shut. 

Reaching his hand as far through the bars as he could with the handcuffs, Bass looked at Charlie plaintively. “Please.”

Licking her lips, Charlie steps forward until her stomach rests against the bars and one of Bass’ hands lifts up her shirt so the other can caress her skin. 

Leaning his forehead against the bars, Charlie watches as a tear slides down his face. “I wasn’t always a monster, Charlie. Please don’t let it think I was.”

“Miss!” the Patriot hisses, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Ranger Dove!” he warns.

Jerking at the warning, Charlie pulls her shirt down slowly, her hand running over Bass’ as she pulls away. 

Reaching the door, she turns back to see him sliding back down to the floor.

* * *

After the sun sets, Charlie and Miles make their way to the roof of the jail, Miles’ bag filled with everything they’ll need when they hear movement below them. Peering over the edge of the building, they see Monroe, shuffling along, surrounded by seven armed men. 

“They're moving him to the bank,” Miles grumbles disgustedly as they duck for cover, taking a seat on the roof.

“Why the bank?” Charlie asks, looking at him in confusion. 

“Because it's got a goddamn vault,” Miles sighs, leaning back. 

Charlie’s shoulders slump. “So how are we gonna get him out?”

“We're not,” Miles replies matter of factly. “Only one way in or out. They're gonna guard that with every guy they got. Jailbreak's one thing, Charlie, but a bank job? No. No way.”

“It doesn't make any sense,” Charlie replies, “Why would they move him all of a sudden?” 

Lifting his head from where it rests against the side of the building, Miles looks over at his niece, his eyes drifting down to her stomach. “Come’on, we need to go.”

* * *

They go straight to her grandpa’s house and Charlie isn’t afraid to admit she’s winded after trying to keep up with Miles’ long legs and trails behind as he goes in search of her mother, finding her in her grandpa’s treatment room. 

“Rachel, did you do it?” Miles demands to know as her mother keeps her back to them.

“Did I do what?” Rachel asks, her movements stilling. 

“Oh, you know, tip them off to a jailbreak?” Miles asks.

“Damn right I did,” Rachel replies, squaring her jaw as she turns towards them.

Somehow, Miles manages to keep his cool. “Did you narc him out in the first place?”

“No. I didn't. But now that they have him, he's not getting away,” she calmly proclaims.

It’s at this point that Miles finally loses it. “Well, that's it. I don't know how to save this town from the Patriots or anybody else. So, when you figure it out, you let me know,” he shouts, turning on his heel and storming out of the house. 

After the door slams behind him, Rachel turns to Charlie. “If they had caught you, they would've put a bullet in your head. I am not losing another child to that man.”

Charlie crosses her arms as she begins to speak. “If you really cared about me, then you would've asked me just once how I've been this whole time instead of having to hear it from Miles. But, as usual, you’re so worried about yourself, you can’t be bothered with your own children. But know this; when this baby asks how it’s father died, you’ll be the monster. Not him.” 

* * *

Her mother and grandfather inside the courthouse, Charlie stands near the doors with Aaron as Monroe comes scuffing down the street, hindered by his chains as a group of Rangers surround him.

When he sees her, he slows down ever further, meeting her eyes. “Take care of your Uncle, kid,” he tells her. He’s about to say more when he’s pushed along and the moment is lost. 

They stand there for what seems like forever, waiting and watching before the bell finally begins to toll announcing his death. Her knees buckle slightly before Aaron catches her elbow, watching silently. 

Taking a deep breath, she shakes him off. 

He leaves her then, and doesn’t see her again until she shows up at the bar. Buying a bottle, she makes her way to Miles, her hand grasping his shoulder as she holds the bottle out in front of him. 

When he looks up at her, eyes as wet as her own, she tilts her head towards the door. Grasping her hand in his own, he nods, pushing his seat back to stand. Aaron watches as they leave the bar hand in hand.

* * *

Slumping down in a chair in his apartment, Miles takes a slow drink from the bottle Charlie had bought, watching as she takes off her boots and curls up on his bed in a ball. It’s only a few minutes later that she begins to sob. 

Setting the bottle down, Miles unlaces his boots and crawls in bed beside her, tucking her up against him, stroking her hair. 

They eventually fall asleep,

* * *

It’s early the next morning when there’s a knock at the door, jarring Miles awake. Charlie stirs and as he works on untangling himself from her hair, he hears her murmuring “No Bass, don’t leave me,” as the person knocks again. 

Opening the door, he finds Rachel and sighs. “What do you want, Rachel. Charlie’s in no shape to see you right now.”

“She will be. Wake her and meet me downstairs,” she replies, handing him a few jam filled biscuits that he sets aside for Charlie. 

Rolling his eyes as she walks away, Miles steps back inside, closing the door softly. 

“What did she want?” Charlie asks from where she’s sitting up in bed.

“Who knows,” he frowns, his hands on hips. “Wants us to meet her downstairs.”

With a sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and tugged on her boots as Miles did the same.

On the way out the door, Miles hands her the biscuits that Rachel brought. “Eat,” he orders gruffly. 

Giving him a sad smile as one hand comes to rest on her belly, she takes the biscuits from him. “Thanks, Miles.”

* * *

She has plenty of time to eat as she follows behind her mother and Miles as they make their way down Main street and out the gates. They’re headed towards a run down two story house, close enough to town to still see the gates. Charlie looks around apprehensively before entering the house. 

She follows them through the home to a room in the back of the house, stopping at the sight of Bass Monroe lying atop a dingy mattress. Miles turns and meets her eyes, before stepping towards Bass. 

“Bass? Hey. Look at me,” Miles says loud enough for a drugged Monroe to follow his voice.

“Hey, buddy,” Bass mumbles, a goofy grin appearing on his face. 

Rolling her eyes, Charlie has to fight back a smile. “How much did you give him?” she asks her mother who’s standing nearby. 

“Enough barbiturates to drop a horse. Make him look dead,” Rachel replies as she pulls a large water bottle out of her backpack. 

Standing over Bass, Miles props a hand on his hip. “How are you feeling? Can you walk?” 

“Look at you. You're happy to see me,” Bass coos. 

“What?” Miles huffs.

“You missed me. You're my best friend,” Bass continues causing, Charlie to bring a hand up to cover her mouth and she swears that Miles’ blushes. 

“Okay. That's that's enough,” Miles scolds, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Miles. You you have to tell me,” Bass breathes, turning serious, bringing Miles down to his side. 

“Tell you what?”

“You have to tell me where my son is,” Bass says softly, but yet loud enough for them all to hear him. 

Miles frowns. “One thing at a time. How long till he's a hundred percent?” he asks Rachel, pushing to his feet. 

“A couple of days,” Rachel replies.

Charlie looks over at her mother. “Why'd you do it?”

“ 'Cause we needed him. And you asked me to,” she replies meeting her daughter's eyes. 

Before Charlie can reply or address the question on Miles face. there’s the sound of an explosion. 

Moving to the nearby window, they can see smoke billowing up from town. 

“Stay here!” Miles barks. pointing at her as he turns to follow her mom. 

“But Miles!” she exclaims, following him. 

Miles stops abruptly, causing her to run into him. Turning he grabs her arm. “Charlie, please. I need to know that you’re safe,” he pleads, his voice low. 

Looking up at him, Charlie gives in. She knows her captivity wrecked him as much as it did her. “Yeah, okay,” she nods, receiving a peck to the top of her head. 

“We’ll be back when we can,” her mother calls from the doorway, and then they’re gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Turning back towards Bass, Charlie picks up a water bottle, taking a drink as she observes him and realizes that everything about him and around him is filthy, so she sets out to do something about it. 

The nice thing about Texas, is that all of these old farmhouses had windmills with the pumps still attached, in addition to their indoor plumbing. It’s just a matter of getting the pump primed after so many years of disuse. 

It takes her the better part of an hour in the midday sun before dirty water starts trickling out of the spout, but not long after she’s got cool, clear water. 

She turns over an old wash tub laying in the back yard and drags it up to the back porch washing it out before beginning to fill it. She starts a fire in the old fire pit and finds a few pots and pans to heat some water up in, and before long she’s got enough warm water to wash in. Gathering any linen she can find, along with wrangling a giggly, drugged Bass out of his dirty clothes, she washes it all, hanging it over the sagging wash line. 

When she’s done with that, she dumps the water out and fills the tub back up again before she goes and fetches Bass. 

“Charlotte?” He asks in awe as though he hasn’t seen her coming and going all morning. “Why don’t I have any clothes on?” he whispers in concern as she half-drags, half-carries him out to the back porch.

“Because you stink,” she huffed, coaxing him into the tub. 

Using a small cloth and a bit of soap from her bag, Charlie begins to wash him as Bass watches her closely. 

“I remember when I used to do this for you,” he finally says when she slips his arm back into the tub and reaches for his leg. 

She falters for half a second before continuing to make a slow, soapy swath over his knee. “Yeah, me too.” 

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.” 

“So am I, Sebastian.” 

Finishing up, Charlie takes a bucket of sun-warmed water and rinses him off, before wrapping a towel around his waist and sitting him at the table. “Here’s an apple and some water,” she says, setting the items in front of him as he sits dripping. “It’s warm enough out that most of the laundry should be dry by now. I’ll get your bed made,” she states, disappearing out into the bright afternoon sun. 

Taking the bottle of water, Bass pushes the apple away and waits. 

When Charlie finally stops with the bustling back and forth, she crouches down to throw a shoulder under Bass’ arm helping him to stand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Shuffling back to the mattress that’s now covered with a sheet dried in the sun, it made lying down almost a pleasure. Catching Charlie’s hand before she’s able to stand, Bass looks into her eyes, pulling her hand to his lips. “Come lie beside me, Charlotte.” 

Charlie shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“You’re tired. You need a nap. I promise not to hurt you,” he says as his eyes grow heavy. 

“I suppose a nap wouldn’t hurt,” she replies, rubbing her aching back before taking off her boots and lying down beside him when he scoots over to make room for her. 

“Here, you can share my pillow,” he whispers, tugging it over so that they can both rest their heads on it. 

Once she’s relaxed, Bass slips his hand over her side and let it rest on her belly. She hears a small intake of breath near her ear as the baby kicks at the strange touch. “I’m sorry for what I did, but I’ll never be sorry for this,” he whispered hotly against her neck. 

“Go to sleep, Bass. We all need our rest,” she says softly, placing a hand over his to still his movements.

He was quiet then, pressing a kiss against the skin at the base of her neck before dragging her back against him and settling down.

* * *

When Charlie wakes, she’s the most comfortable she’s been in months. Her head and stomach are pillowed and for once her constant back ache has ebbed. But then she stretches and realizes that she’s snuggled up against someone. And not just anyone. Even now, she can recognize his scent and the feel of his body pressed against hers and something inside her stirs. She licks her lips at the memory of him and how gentle he was with her. She always knew, after the drugs were out of her system, that he could have been incredibly cruel to her, but he never was. She also knew that he never initiated intercourse with her. That was always her.

As she’s turning all this over in her head, Bass stirs, but immediately stills when he realizes she's awake. 

“Is everything okay,” he asks softly against the top of her head where it's tucked up against him.    
  


She blames it on muscle memory. The flat plane of his bare chest against her back, his erection heavy against her bottom. She should have dressed him before lying with him she supposes, but she knows his body as well, if not better than her own. 

His nose trails a path from her neck to her shoulder as his hand strokes her belly before snaking down the front of her pants, tangling in the damp curls at the apex of her thighs before his fingers delve into her center, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure from her mouth. “I want to see you,” he whispered, breath hot against her skin. 

She lets him help her up, pulling her blouse over her head before drawing her bra down over her shoulders as he popped the clasp. Laying back down, she lets him draw her pants down her legs, watching as he tosses them aside. 

He’s silent for the longest time, just looking at her, his hand resting lighting on her stomach. “You’re beautiful, Charlotte,” he finally rasps, his eyes wet at the sight of her heavy with his child. 

“Bass,” Charlie whispers, reaching out for him. 

Sliding down beside her, Bass pulled Charlie to him, hand heavy on her hip as he pulled her leg across him. Grasping his cock, he holds himself steady as Charlie sinks down, sheathing him in her tight heat and it feels like coming home. 

* * *

“Bass? What’s that?” Charlie asked, looking up at a flash of light as she dressed. 

Head still a bit cloudy, Bass looks up from where he’s tying his boots to see what she’s referring to just as a reflection bounces off the wall. 

Getting to his feet, he scuffles over to the window, moving the blinds so he can see. Picking up a piece of broken mirror, he begins to respond. “No Miles, we’re not alright, we’re hungry,” he mumbles as Charlie steps up behind him. “I need something to write with,” he urges her, glancing between her and the reflection coming from town. He hears her scrambling around behind him before finally a scrap of paper and a pencil are put in his hands. 

Scribbling on the paper, Bass exhales loudly. “”You've got to be kidding me.”

“What? Is it Miles?” Charlie asks, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Bass replies, turning to look at her. “Looks like you and I are going on a rescue mission.”

“Mom? Grandpa?”

Bass shakes his head. “No. Aaron and Cynthia. Finished getting dressed. We’ve got a bit of a walk.”

* * *

It’s dark when they arrive. They haven’t waited very long before the Patriots arrive and Aaron and Cynthia emerge from the sewer tunnel. 

A scuffle ensues and before Charlie knows it, they’re lying dead at Bass’ feet and Aaron and Cynthia are clinging to each other. I think-I think I need to sit down for a minute,” Bass says, swaying on his feet. 

“Oh no you don’t, we do not have time for you to go all druggy Bass on us,” Charlie declares, shoving a shoulder under his arm. 

“Druggie Bass?” Aaron asks, watching the two of them, just as a new set of Patriots arrive, spraying bullets all around them. 

“Shit!” Charlie yells, dragging Bass towards an abandoned car. She’s caught by surprise though when Bass pushes her down behind the tire, and she can hear Aaron and Cynthia screaming and fighting. She struggles with Bass to get to them, but Bass has an iron grip around her, so she simply sits there and flounders until suddenly he goes slack jaw, releasing his hold on her as he gets to his feet.

“Bass? Bass, what is it?” Charlie asks, scrambling to her feet just behind him, her mouth falling open with a breathy, “oh,” at the sight of the soldiers burning where they stand. Placing a hand upon Bass’ back they exchange a look.

Leaving Bass leaning against the car, Charlie rushes to Aaron and Cynthia's side, helping them to their feet. “Come on, we need to get to the boat yard,” she tells them, herding them along as she lets Bass take the lead while she brings up the rear. 

“Aaron, you have got to tell me how you do that,” Bass says in amusement as they fall in behind him. 

“It's okay,” Charlie hears Aaron tell Cynthia. “You don't have to be afraid of him,” which causes her to chuckle softly to herself, until she hears what Aaron says next. 

“But it's not him you're afraid of, is it?”

Her smiles falls away.

* * *

They walked for what seemed like miles. When they finally reach their destination, Bass picks the biggest boat in the yard for the best vantage point. Charlie follows Cynthia below deck and grabs a seat cushion. Giving the woman a weak smile, Charlie leaves her to herself. 

Tossing the cushion down on the deck, Charlie eases herself down tiredly. She knows she’s dozed off for a bit when she hears Bass and Aaron talking, not quite keeping their voices down. 

“If they said they'd meet us here, they'll meet us here,” Aaron says as if he’s trying to convince Bass to stay. 

“Well, there might have been a change of plans,” Bass replies not moving from his spot.

“What change of plans?” Aaron demands turning towards the ex-dictator. 

“In that this plan has gone to hell,” Bass explains. “Those Patriot sons of bitches were waiting for you, and we don't know what happened. We don't know if Miles can get out of town, or if he's even still alive.”

She watches as Aaron points at Bass like a wizened old crow. “We're gonna wait right here like Miles told us to!”

Bass holds his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay, okay. Just don't light me on fire or anything.”

“Bass,” Charlie chastises. “My back hurts, would you please come rub it?”

With a smirk at Aaron and a tilt of his head, Bass gets to his feet. “Duty calls.”

* * *

Aaron’s shouting wakes her a second time. “Where the hell are you going? You're just gonna leave us?”

“Look, if Miles was coming, he would've been here by now. I'm gonna go find him,” Bass replies  calmly .

“Bass? What’s going on?” Charlie asks sleepily as she sits up. 

“Look,” he says, looking between the two of them, “Miles has got some information that I need, someone I need to find. I held up my end of the bargain. Now it's his turn, that's if he's even alive.”

“About your son,” Charlie says matter of factly. “The son that you’ve never met and Miles hasn’t seen in ten years. That son?” 

“Charlie…” Bass says, trailing off. 

She waves him off when the Patriots suddenly appear, hurrying down the ladder and pushing Aaron behind her as she draws her knife. 

She lets Bass do the heavy lifting, surprising him by mistake and getting a gun in the face for it. The look on Bass’ face when he realizes what he’s done surprises her and she reaches out to soothe him just as torches and shouts emerge from the darkness. 

“We need to go,” he growls, grabbing Charlie’s wrist and dragging her with him. 

“Bass, no! We have to stay and help!” Charlie hisses at him as Aaron begins to back up terrified. “He’s my family, Bass, I can’t just leave him.” 

“I”m not giving you a choice,” he growls. “They won’t kill him, Charlie, but they will me and God only knows what they’ll do to you, now come on!” 

She struggles against him as Cynthia's screams for help reach her ears.

* * *

They find an abandoned barn with a cellar attached and take refuge there for the night. It’s filled with canned goods, camping equipment and other detritus, and it’s not long before they have a hot meal and a bed. 

“What do you think happened to them?” Charlie asks as she lies in the darkness, Bass a solid presence behind her. 

“Nothing. Nothing happened to them. They’re just having a hard time getting out of town. Aaron says it was locked down after the bombing. Once it’s light we’ll start making our way back towards the walls and see if we can get in and find them.”

“Because you want to know where your son is?” Charlie asked, turning towards him on their makeshift bed. 

Reaching up to caress her cheek with his hand, Bass pulls her closer until they’re breathing the same air. When her hand, finally, tentatively, tangles in the curls at the base of his neck, he presses forward, joining their mouths together.

* * *

At daybreak, Bass wakes Charlie, running a hand through her hair as she nuzzled against him, her nose pressing against his neck as her stomach bumps against his own. 

“Up and at’em little mama. We need to get going.” he says softly, tossing the blanket back, watching as her skin pebbles in the cool morning air. 

Charlie groans as she pushes up to her hip, rubbing her stomach. “Someone had the hiccups last night.” 

Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, Bass gets to his feet, holding out a hand for her to take. Pulling her up, he cups the same shoulder. “As soon as we find your mom and Miles, we’ll come back here and you can have a nice long nap, okay?”

With a tired nod, Charlie takes the clothes that he’s holding out and begins to dress. 

Emerging from their hiding place, they exchange a look at the heavy fog in the area. “It’s not humid enough to be this foggy,” Charlie murmurs.

“Come’on, lets go,” Bass replies, taking her hand. “Keep your eyes open.” 

They’ve been searching for a good hour when they hear gunshots in the distance. “Go,” Charlie urges him. “I’ll catch up.” And she does catch up, just as he’s proclaiming he’s Batman, Patriots lying dead at his feet. 

“Mom? Miles? Where’s Aaron?” she asks. 

“Come’on, we gotta go,” Bass hisses when they hear Patriots shouting in the background. Taking Charlie by the elbow they turn and run, Miles and Rachel on their heels.

* * *

Bass leads them all back to the cellar where he and Charlie stayed the night, closing the doors gently, before sticking a metal pipe through the handles. 

As Bass and Miles exchanged heated whispers, the only word Charlie overhears is “son.” When Miles moves out of their sight, Bass turns to look at her. 

Giving a soft sigh, she turns tiredly towards her mother. “What happened. What took so long?” she demands. She’s unable to get any answers, though, before Bass appears in the doorway. 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go find Stay Puft,” he says, stalking away angrily.

* * *

Following Miles and her mother back to the tunnel entrance, Charlie manages to pick up Aaron’s trail and it leads them straight to the high school which is crawling with Patriots. 

Charlie looks at Miles. Taking in the sweat on his forehead and the soft cast on his hand, she takes the lead, slitting the throat of Patriot standing guard. Once they're inside the school, Miles orders them to split up and with the look her mother flashes Bass, Charlie tilts her head pointedly, following him down the hallway, and around the corner where they begin their search. 

They’re several hallways away from where they first started, the conversation being kept to a minimum under the circumstances, when they hear footsteps coming down the hallway behind them and duck for cover on their respective sides of the hallway. Pointing to the room behind her, Bass then points to himself and the stairwell across from him. Putting her trust in him, she gives a wary nod and manages to squeeze into a locker in order to hide, but it certainly isn’t comfortable. 

She stays there until she can no longer hear any noise in the hall and then slowly counts to a thousand. Cautiously looking out into the hall, she’s surprised when she’s immediately grabbed by a soldier and thrown against the wall, crying out in pain. 

She’s ready though, when Bass appears out of nowhere. As he slices the throat of one attacker, she shoves a knife into the gut of the other. She follows the man down, taking his weapon from him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, taking a hold of her arm as she stands. 

“I’ll be alright,” she replies breathlessly as soldiers suddenly appear investigating the noise. 

“Go. Go!” Bass hisses hurrying her down the hall as the Patriots give chase. When they come to a dead end, Charlie darts into what turns out to be the gymnasium and takes cover in a collapsed portion of the floor. 

Charlie looks at Bass as they exchange gunfire with the Patriots and wonders if this is how it will end. If her mother will find her body, still pregnant with her child, slumped over next to the man responsible. Instead, they hear the Patriots begin to scream and poke their heads up.

She watches in horror as men go up in flames, a gasping breath escaping her as she looks at Bass, covering her nose and mouth from the stench. 

Once the screaming is over, Bass stands, climbs out of the hole they’re hiding in and takes her hand, helping her out. 

They find Aaron and Cynthia first, Aaron refusing to leave unless they take her body with them. 

Bass breathes angrily through his nose, glaring at the larger man, before picking the dead woman up and throwing her over his shoulder. 

They find Rachel and Miles next, Charlie rushing to her Uncles side in concern, looking up at her mother questionably. 

“Blood poisoning,” she supplies. “I need help getting him up.”

“Aaron, you’re going to have to help,” Bass hisses, as he keeps an eye out the door. 

“Aaron, please,” Charlies says softly, tugging at his sleeve. 

With a jerky nod, he helps Rachel support the taller man between them, dragging him as Charlie leads the way. 

They manage to get back to the barn without being detected and Rachel begs Charlie to find her grandfather and bring him back because he’s the only one that can help Miles. 

“I’ll find him,” Charlie assures her mother, just as Bass speaks up to protest. 

“Rachel, She’s exhausted. She needs to rest.”

“Well, while she’s resting Miles is going to die,” Rachel snaps back.

“Bass, it’s alright. I’m used to it,” she says softly, glancing back at her mother who’s fussing over Miles’ still form. “I could use some help.”

Jaw clenching, he turns from Rachel, his face softening when he sees the look on Charlie’s face as she watches her mother pour her feelings over someone other than her own child and places a hand on her back. 

“Come on, but as soon as we're back, I’m making sure you get fed, cleaned up and put to bed,” he tells her as he opens the cellar door, shutting it softly behind them. 

Making their way to town, they find a loose panel and scout it out till they find the most likely spot for Gene’s confinement. Charlie takes out the guards with her crossbow and plays lookout as Bass makes his way further into the building to find her grandfather. 

When they emerge, Gene looks at the two dead soldiers and then towards his granddaughter. His very pregnant granddaughter. “Charlie. You did this?”   
  


“Come on,” Charlie replied tiredly, used to the people in her life judging her. 

She remains quiet as they head back to the barn, bringing up the rear as they leave Willoughby behind. 

“I don't get it. Why are you helping me?” Gene finally asks Bass as they approach the barn.

Bass opens the cellar door. “It's not for you.”

Charlie stands back and watches the reunion between her mother and grandfather and knows there’s a story there but she’s too tired to worry about it now. 

Bass gives them a moment before interrupting. “While this is touching, really, go help him,” he demands.

Pulling up Miles sleeve, Gene breathes heavily, before looking up at the group of people hovering over him. “I'm gonna need some things.”

Charlie hangs her head, ready to cry, when Aaron speaks up. “I’ll help so Charlie can rest. I set up the other room for you,” he says and takes the list that Bass hands him. 

“Thank you, Aaron,” Charlie replies looking at him sadly, before Bass gets her attention. “Get some rest, we’ll be back soon.” Charlie nodded, watching them leave, before yanking her jacket off and heading into the other room. 

There’s a bucket of water, along with a camp stove and several cots padded with sleeping bags. Closing the door, she strips down and bathes herself as best she can, pulling fresh clothes out of her pack and redressing before priming the stove and dumping several jars of vegetables into a pot to heat. 

Once the contents are hot, she finds some cups and fills two of them, taking them to her mother and grandfather. Leaving them, she goes back to the other room and eats her own dinner. She needs protein, but that will have to wait until another day.

She manages to stay awake until Aaron and Bass return, taking them their share of dinner as they observe Gene as he treats Miles. Finally, after what seems like forever, he washes Miles’ arm and bandages it. “All we can do now is wait,” he tells them. 

Bass nods as he looks at Miles prone form and turns to Charlie who’s swaying on her feet. “Go to bed,” he tells her. “I’ll sleep out here and keep watch.”

She’s asleep as soon as her head hits her pillow and Bass picks her arm up from where it’s dangling and tucks it up beside her before taking her boots off and setting them down beside her. When he’s done, he catches Aaron watching him. He gives the man a nod, knowing the grief he’s feeling and leaves him to himself, settling down in the area next to the stairs, rifle in hand as the cellar goes quiet.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie woke to silence the next morning, a still unconscious Miles and her grandfather the only ones in the cellar with her. Taking advantage of the situation, she takes a seat on the stool next to Miles’ bed and takes his hand in hers as she reaches up with her free hand to brush the hair off his forehead. Bringing his hand to her mouth, Charlie presses her lips against his knuckles before clutching it to her chest. 

She’s frightened that he won’t wake up and she’ll be lost again. This time for good. 

She’s sitting there, thinking about their time together when he stirs and she calls out for her grandpa. 

When Gene’s sure that he’ll live, he heads out to let Rachel know while Charlie stays with her Uncle. 

“You okay, kid?” Miles asks. 

“Yeah, I’m good, Miles,” she replies, handing him a cup of water. She helps him sit up and he takes a drink, making a face when she lays him back down. 

“Give me some whiskey. You know water makes me sick.”

“Big baby,” she teases as her mother comes rushing into the room plopping down on his other side. 

“You scared the hell out of me,” 

“Oh, stop making this about you,” he fires back, clearly feeling better as Bass comes stomping into the room. 

“Good. You're awake. We need to talk.”

“Not now, Bass,” Rachel replies, refusing to look at him. 

Bass plants his feet at the end of the cot. “I'm done waiting. Now.”

“Give us a minute,” Miles says, looking between Rachel and Charlie. 

Charlie watches her mother and grandfather leave, before looking between the two men in her life. With a frown, she gets to her feet and leaves the room.

* * *

She’s outside, standing in the shade, when Bass comes out to speak to her. 

“You’re leaving?” she asks.

Bass nods. “Miles and Rachel are going to take me to my son.”

Charlie looks away, choking back her tears. When she turns to walk away, Bass grabs her arm. “We’re only supposed to be gone a week.” 

“Hopefully Junior’s not in a hurry,” she replies, pulling out of his grasp and heading towards the barn to start getting the horses ready seeing as how her mother and Miles have yet to emerge. 

They don’t speak as they saddle the horses and before Charlie knows it, the three of them are mounting their horses. 

“Whatever you do, don't go near any Patriots, okay? Don't be morons,” Miles advises them, causing Charlie to roll her eyes. 

“Sit tight. Be back in a week,” Rachel chimes in before following Miles. She watches the three of them ride away, but is surprised when Bass stops at the last moment, turning back to look at her. He doesn’t do anything, just keeps his horse in check as he meets her eye. Charlie remains rooted to the spot as he nods and continues on his way.

* * *

The next morning, Charlie wakes to an empty room. It’s not until she’s up, working out the kinks that she sees the note. Reading it, she huffed in annoyance, marching into the room her grandfather has claimed. 

“Grandpa, wake up. Aaron took off,” she says, waving the note in her hand. 

“He couldn't have gone far,” Gene replies reading the note. “You check out the north bend, I'll look South,” he tells his concerned granddaughter pulling on his boots.

* * *

“Did you find anything?” Gene asks as Charlie arrives back at the cellar dumping her belongings on the table. 

“Aaron's trail. Then I lost it,” she replies with a sigh. 

“How?”

“The jerk criss-crossed two creeks. He was paying more attention than I thought. Guess he doesn't want to be found.”

“I'm sorry. He left because of me.”

Charlie sighs with a shake of her head. “He left for a lot of reasons, Grandpa.”

“I don't get it. I mean, after what I've done, why aren't you angry? You haven't even raised your voice.”

“I stopped yelling at old people. It wasn't getting a damn thing done.”

Gene smiles at his granddaughter. “Well, come on then. I need your help.”

* * *

“Charlie, Dad?” Rachel calls out as they enter the cellar, exchanging a concerned look with Miles before they hear Charlie’s voice. 

“Mom?” she questions, appearing from the room, she, Bass and Aaron had been sleeping in armed to the teeth. She was clearly asleep when they arrived, hair in disarray, wearing a shirt that looks like one Bass discovered missing when he was packing. 

Hugging her mom, Charlie looks around, noticing the new face. “I take it the trip went well?”

There are looks exchanged, but no one answers her directly. “Where’s your Grandpa, honey?” Rachel asks. 

“Yeah, about that. It’s gonna be easier to show you.”

“He’s - he’s not dead is he?” Rachel asks.

“No! No, he’s fine, as far as I know.” 

“Moron’s, I knew it,” Miles groans, earning a look from Charlie. 

“Let me get dressed. I was napping,” Charlie tells Rachel, who smiles as her daughter rubs her extended belly before turning away. 

“Wait here,” Bass says, looking at Connor before following Charlie into their room and closing the door. 

“Hey. How are you?” he asks, reaching out to caress her belly as she changes shirts, and he swears her breasts have blossomed in the last week. Charlie rolls her eyes. 

“Still pregnant,” she replies, pushing away his hand as she kicks off her old cotton pajamas and pulls on her pants, sitting down to get her boots on, Bass dropping down in front of her to help. “How’d it go?”

“There were...complications,” he offers hesitantly. 

“Bass? What did you do?” she asks. 

“I had to make certain promises. To get him to come back with me,” he says fastening her boots.

“Oh, Bass,” she whispers just as there’s a loud knock at the door and Miles demands that they stop fucking around and get their asses out there. 

Letting him help her to her feet, Charlie reaches up to caress his face. “We’re talking about this later,” she informs his softly before throwing open the door to her Uncles stormy visage. 

“You try growing another human and see how fast you are, asshole,” she snaps, making her way up the stairs. 

“She gets that shit from you,” Miles accuses, pointing a finger at Bass.

* * *

Charlie lays out what’s going on as she leads her family to the quarantine camps overlook. As they spy on the camp, Charlie explains the communication system she and her Grandpa set up before they snuck him in. 

“Okay, Charlie, get back to the barn,” Miles instructs when Rachel demands to go in. 

“Connor, go with her,” Bass adds, earning a glare from both Connor and Charlie.

“I'm pregnant, not invalid,” she hisses at him, backing away as Miles shoots Bass a smug smile that he’s not the only person she’s snapping at.

* * *

Its days later when they finally bring Gene home and Charlie is tasked with his recovery as Bass and Miles try to come up with a plan on how to defeat the Patriots. When they do, Charlie is not happy.

“You trust the two of them to leave and not come back?” Charlie asks her uncle incredulously, earning a hurt look from Bass.

“Well what are we supposed to do? Send you with them?” 

Charlie swears she sees red. “I swear to god, I’m going to have this baby in the middle of a gun fight just so you can all kiss my ass!” 

Bass rolls his eyes with a snort drawing her attention and she narrows her eyes as Connors hand rubs at his mouth. “Wanna see this kid?” she threatens.

“Now, Charlie,” Bass says softly, walking up to her, “you know I wouldn’t run out on you,” he says, cupping her cheeks. 

Charlie’s face falls as she grabs onto the front of his jacket. “You better make sure you don’t, asshole.”

Smiling, Bass leans in to kiss her. 

“Alright, alright, no one wants to see that,” Miles huffs causing them to break apart. 

Turning himself to look at Miles, Bass keeps his hand on Charlie’s arm. “We’ll leave in the morning. With the horses and wagon it’ll cut the trip in half, so no more than a few weeks.”

Charlie shakes her head, and tugging her arm back disappears into her room. Bass watches her go, before turning back to his son and his friend to make the final plans for their trip. 

As they wrap things up, Bass takes the plates that Rachel hands him, containing his and Charlie’s dinner. He’s seen her coming and going back and forth to use the bathroom a few times as he and Miles talked. Her biggest complaint these days has been the baby pressing down on her bladder. 

Entering the room they’re sharing, he set the plates on a shelf near their bed and closes the door as she sets aside the ratty paperback novel she’s been reading. 

“All set?” she asks as he helps her sit up.

“Yeah,” he replies as he hands her a plate and gets his own taking a seat beside her.

“We’ll be back in plenty of time before the baby’s born,” Bass tells her and she’s wondering if he’s reassuring himself. 

“I know,” she replies, giving him a small smile. 

They finish their dinner and setting their plates aside, get ready for bed. Charlie puts on her pajamas, folding her clothes and placing them in her pack in case they have to make a run for it and Bass strips down to his jeans. Blowing out the candle, he crawls into bed behind her, pressing up against her. 

He tells her goodbye in their room the next morning without an audience and leaves her warm, sated and sleepy.

Miles takes one look at his face and frowns. “I swear to God, I will hunt you down and cut your dick off if you bail.” 

“Fuck you,” Bass snarls throwing his pack into the back of the wagon. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Climbing up on the wagon seat, he glances back towards the barn. “Take care of her.”

Miles gives him a nod and takes a step back as Bass releases the brake and snaps the horses into motion.

* * *

Bass and Connor have been gone a week and a half and Charlie and Rachel have spent their time going to the surrounding towns where they’re not recognized, gathering supplies while Gene helps Miles do some scouting.

The day Charlie and Rachel come home with several rabbits, Rachel asks Miles to go back out with her to set up some more snares. It’s getting dark out and everyone knows the last thing they’re going to do is set snares, but Charlie just waves and wanders off to read her book. 

They’ve been gone a few hours when Charlie hears a noise at the cellar doors. Grabbing her crossbow, she loads it and is motioning to her grandpa to grab a shotgun when the doors are thrown open. Charlie lets a bow fly, catching Tom Neville's collar on the remaining closed door. 

Frowning he yanks it loose, keeping his gun aimed at her, as Jason follows him down, his gun aimed at her Grandpa. 

“Now, Ms. Matheson, is that anyway to treat two old friends?” he asks, motioning to Jason to scope the place out. 

“You know these men, Charlie?”

Charlie ignores him. “What do you want, Tom?”

“We don’t want any trouble we’re just looking for your Uncle. Didn’t realize you’d be here as well. Who’s the daddy?” he asks, looking down at her swollen belly. 

“Miles isn’t here.”

“Yes, I can see that. When might he return?”

“Don’t know,” Charlie replies jutting her chin out in defiance. 

“Well then, I guess we’ll just all get comfortable and wait,” he replies, causing Charlie to frown in her grandpas direction. 

They don’t have long to wait though, before they hear giggling coming from outside and Tom and Jason, position themselves out of sight leaving Gene and Charlie to greet them. 

“Charlie? Dad? What are you two still doing up?” Rachel asks. 

“We’ve got company.” Charlie replies, waving to the side where Tom and Jason emerge. 

“Miles, Rachel It's good to see you again,” Tom says. 

“How'd you know where I was?” Miles asks.

Tom scoffs. “I know the kind of places you hide out in.”

Miles rolls his eyes, “I mean here, Willoughby.”

“I heard about Monroe. That he was executed here and that Dr. Gene Porter and Rachel Matheson did the honors. I figured wherever Rachel is, you'd be too. I came here to find you.”

“Really? Why?”

“You got to know about those Patriots, right? They're in the area.”

“Yeah, we’re aware.”

“I want revenge. They dropped the bomb that killed my wife. They've got the whole east coast locked up. That's why I came here to find you. I figured we could put a dent in these sons of bitches.”

Miles turns to Jason. “Your old man telling the truth?”

“I swear on my mother's grave,” Jason replies, his eyes flashing to Charlie. 

With that Charlie snorts. “I’m going to bed. Grandpa, why don’t you move your things into my room. With this kind of drama I’m sure to go into labor any second. I might need your help. Night, night,” she says with a wave, disappearing into her room.

* * *

While Miles, Rachel and their guests split their time between scouting and the quarantine camp, Charlie recruits her grandpa into quietly moving as much as they can out to the water processing plant. She’s got a bad feeling about Tom and Jason and she doesn’t plan on getting caught with her pants down. 

She’s got too much to lose this time. 

She avoids the Nevilles as much as possible, giving Jason the cold shoulder every time he approaches her. 

The day they put their plan into motion, Charlie corners her Uncle outside. 

“You trust the two of them?”

Miles huffs, propping his hands on his hips. “I’m still pulling the knife out of my back from the last time Tom put it there.”

“Then why are we doing this?” 

“Because if there's even a chance they're on the level, it’d be a good score for us. But listen, Charlie, when we go grab this Patriot guy, you gotta stay behind, okay?”

“And if Neville is up to something, and you're out there alone with him?” 

“Then I’ll have to move fast and violent, and that's gonna be a lot easier to do if you're not around.”

“What if he puts a gun to your head? Takes you hostage? You think Mom’s gonna be able to handle that on her own?” Charlie scoffs.

“I promised Bass I’d take care of you and this is me doing just that. You’re.not.going.”

* * *

She and Gene pack their bags and leave after the others disappear into the night. They’ve already smuggled just about anything of worth out of the cellar over the past week and they take the rest of it with them now. 

Once they reach the plant, they start a fire near the building they stashed their belongings in and sit down to wait. 

It’s late, the moon already beginning to disappear when they emerge out of the darkness. 

“Well?” Charlie asks, looking between the two of them. 

“It was a set up,” Rachel answers looking to Miles. 

“The Patriots are holding Julia hostage. Say they’ll let her go for Bass.”

“Please tell me you didn’t give him up,” Charlie pleads, a hand coming up to rest on her stomach. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Rachel assures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Now where’s Grandpa, hmm? In here? Go on and lay down, you need some rest. Miles and I’ll take watch the rest of the night.”

* * *

Miles and Rachel leave Charlie and Gene and go scouting the next day, making sure that they weren’t followed the night before when they stumble across Bass and Connor and their men. 

“Take it easy,” Miles calls out, emerging from the brush. 

“Hold your fire!” Connor calls out to the group of men. 

“So much for coming in stealthy. We could hear you a mile away,” Miles grouses as he approaches Bass. 

“Yeah, well, we're not exactly traveling light.”

“You know, we could use twice as many guys.”

“We were lucky to get them.”

“I had money you'd screw us over, but I'll give you this one. You did all right.”

“Suck it,” Bass replies. “Where’s Charlie?” 

“She’s with Dad,” Rachel explains. “Our safe house isn't so safe anymore.”

* * *

Gene and Charlie are just sitting down to eat, when they hear a commotion over the rise. Picking up her crossbow, Charlie stands slightly in front of Gene who's holding his rifle. 

When Charlie sees Bass, she beams, handing her bow over to Gene, as she hurries over. Bass meets her halfway. 

“You’re back!” she breathes, throwing her arms around his back as best she can, trying to keep her belly out of the way. 

“How are you? How’s the baby?” he asks, his hand skimming her swollen belly. 

“We’re fine,” she replies, looking over her shoulder. “Just five?”

“Long story,” he mumbled, threading his gloved hand through her hair pulling her close. 

“Always is with you,” she smiles. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” he growls letting her pull him over to the fire. 

Miles approaches him, just as Charlie hands Bass a bowl. “We need to talk,” her uncle says pointedly, before walking off. 

Charlie sighs watching him walk away before turning back to Bass. “Some things happened while you were gone. You should probably go.”

Kissing her cheek, Bass follows wearily behind Miles, eating as he goes.

* * *

“So Neville's with the Patriots?” Bass asks around bites of food. 

“They got his wife. And he's shadier than you. What'd you expect?”

“All right, let's go put him out of his misery,” Bass replies. 

Miles shakes his head. “First things first.”

“First? What do you mean? What's more important than killing someone who wants me dead?” Bass asks around the food in his mouth in disbelief.

“Come on, I'll show you.”

“No, Miles, I've just been walking for four days. Can I sit on my ass for a minute and check on my kid?”

“Nope,” Miles replies as he walks away, leaving Bass no choice but to set his bowl down and follow behind without being able to speak to Charlie again.

* * *

The rest of the day was a blur for Charlie with all the bickering surrounding the cadets that Miles and Bass captured. 

When Bass goes after her Grandpa for wanting to take the kids back to their parents, she fakes a cramp, crying out and dropping to her knees, forcing Bass’ attention to her. She’ll care about tricking him later. As it is, the rest of her family has taken the cadets and fled well before she let’s Bass back out of her sight.

* * *

When her family returns with only one of the cadets, Charlie gets to her feet with Bass’ help and rushes over to find out what in the fuck is going on, leaving Bass clenching his jaw as he realized he’d been played. He slowly made his way over giving her the stink eye.

As she listens to Miles and see the boys tattoo for herself, Charlie is horrified, backing up into Bass unconsciously. He lays a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. 

“Can you and Connor keep an eye on him?” he asks. 

Charlie nods, leaning back against the wall as the others walk away. 

It’s not but a few moments later when gunfire erupts around them. Charlie ducks, taking the gun that Connor slides over to her. 

She hears Bass yelling Conner's name and then the younger man has a hold of her arm, helping her up and making a run towards the stairs. 

There are more Patriots up there and she gives Vincent a quick nod when a Patriot falls to the ground behind them. Connor hands her off to the large man who guides her away as Connor goes back after his father.

* * *

They all manage to meet back up in the dark a few miles away and stay on the move most of the next day, not stopping until they circle back around to stay at a safe house that probably won’t be safe for long. 

When Charlie’s backache wakes her during the night, she knows something is not right. 

She leaves Bass’ side and takes over the night watch from Miles, simply giving the baby’s movements as an excuse for being awake.

When Gene sees her the next morning, he spins on his boot and immediately searches out Miles. “We need to find someplace, now,” he demands. 

“Gene, we’re trying,” Miles assures him as he turns to see Bass rubbing Charlie’s back with one hand as they speak quietly. 

“Well you need to try harder. Charlie’s in labor.”

“What? No way. She would have said something when she got up last night,” Miles insists.

“Would she? Would she really?” Gene asks smugly, having spent a fair amount of time with his granddaughter lately. 

“Fuck!” Miles hisses, looking over at his niece seeing the stress in the long lines of her back and tilt of her head. 

“Grab your shit!” he bellows through the house. 

“Where, Gene?” He asks desperately, “Where else can we go?” 

“The old Chemical plant. It should only take us an hour or two to get there, but I’m going to need someone to go back to the Water Plant to get our crap. Charlie stashed it in the guard shack in case something like this happened.”

Miles frowns, even as he waves Connor over. “Has she even got an hour or two?” 

“Guess we’re going to find out,” Gene replies grimly.

* * *

The last thirty minutes of their journey are nerve racking as they stop every few minutes as Charlie’s contractions finally start to even out and get closer together. They’re down to four minutes apart when they finally make it to the plant and Gene and Rachel hurry ahead to find a sheltered spot for Charlie to give birth. 

When Bass finally picks her up, Charlie is panting with the pain. As they top the hill Rachel waves to them and Bass tries not to jar Charlie as he hurries in her direction. 

They’ve found the plants infirmary and Bass rushes in, setting her down next to the elevated exam table that Rachel’s wiping down with a rag. “Get her pants off,” Gene instructs. 

Bass doesn’t wait but goes straight for her waistband even as Charlie slaps his hands away. “What are you doing?” 

“How do you think that got in there?” he argues, poking at her belly. “Quit being such a Mini-Miles,” he chastises, pulling her pants and underwear down to her knees in one fell swoop, only stopping when she cries out in pain, squeezing his shoulders. 

Lifting her up on the now clean table, Bass quickly unlaced her boots tossing them in the corner along with her clothing. 

“Where’s Connor with that bag?” Gene hisses as he lifts the head of the exam table up and pulls out the stir-ups it to prop Charlie’s feet on. 

“Here!” Connor shouts, racing into the room holding out Gene’s black bag. “Vincent’s got the rest, he was right behind me.”

“Thanks, Son,” Bass replies walking his son over to the door. “We’re going to need a fire and someplace clean and warm for Charlie and the baby.”

“On it,” Connor assures his father disappearing as Charlie finally gives in and screams in pain, drawing Bass back to her side.

“I swear to god you’re never touching me again,” Charlie huffs out, squeezing his hand. 

“Well, maybe you’ll be able to keep your pants on once your not pregnant,” Bass shoots back, unimpressed by her threat. 

“I hate you,” Charlie hisses before crying out in the throes of another contraction. 

“Yeah? Tell someone who cares,” he smirks, pressing a kiss against the back of her hand as she falls against the table in a sweaty heap. “You’re doing great,” Bass assures her as he nuzzles her temple. 

“Next contraction you need to push!” Gene warns, watching the muscles in her stomach tighten up. Charlie leans into it, Bass holding a hand as his other arm helps to prop her up. 

“Next push and the shoulders will be through!” Rachel exclaims, looking up with a smile. 

Charlie nods and with a deep breath pushes. 

“Keeping pushing,” Gene coaches, as Rachel stands next to him, holding one of her clean shirts, catching the baby as it slips the rest of the way out. 

Gene works over it quickly, blocking Charlie and Bass’ view and suddenly the wailing of a baby breaks the silence causing them both to laugh and cry. 

“Say hello to your son,” Rachel says, placing the baby into her daughter’s arms.

“A son,” Bass chuckles wetly, pressing a kiss to the top of Charlie's head, as they pull the shirt away to inspect him. 

“Charlie let Bass take him, so we can get him bathed and dressed while Grandpa helps you finish up,” Rachel says gently, brushing her daughters hair away from her face. 

“Okay,” Charlie whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to her son’s head, before handing him over to Bass. 

“Be back soon,” Bass tells her with a smile as he takes their son and follows Rachel out of the room.

* * *

When they return, Bass is carrying a bucket full of water as Rachel follows him in with the baby. 

“Thought you might want to get cleaned up,” Bass says at her unanswered question as Gene nods in approval. 

They work their way from the top down, and in just a few minutes she feels remarkably better as they help her dress. 

Once the baby is fed, Bass picks them both up and carries them out to the lean-to that Miles and Connor have gotten set up for them, tarps hastily thrown over it to help hold the heat in. It reminds Bass a little of the manager from his mother's nativity set. 

Charlie leans back against a straw filled burlap sack sleepily as Bass slides in next to her and they do nothing more than watch their son sleep. 

“Have you decided on a name?” Connor asks from where he stands, watching the threesome.

Looking up at Bass, Charlie nods, giving him a tired smile. 

“Ryker William Monroe,” Bass announces, rubbing a thumb over his son’s scalp as a firefly lands on his blanket. 

“Uh, guys,” Connor says, looking up. 

Looking out into the night, Bass and Charlie watch as the night sky fills with so many fireflies that it blocks out the moon, casting a green glow all around them. 

“What does it mean?” Charlie asks, no one in particular. 

“It’s the nano,” Rachel explains. 

Charlie looks at Bass, terrified, moving her son so that he’s resting between the two of them, but the action only causes a small group of the bugs to come closer. 

“Let me have him, Charlie,” Bass tells her, taking the baby and holding him in his outstretched hands, as she clings to his back, watching as the small group of fireflies swarm her son and begin to glow white, hovering over his tiny body briefly before flying away, the sky slowly turning back to black, the moonlight shining down upon them once again.

“Aaron theorized that the nano was learning and evolving. Perhaps they were simply intrigued,” Rachel says, answering everyone's unasked question. 

“Makes as much sense as anything else,” Miles replies, eyeing the new parents. Bending down next to Charlie, he looks at little Ryker before leaning over to press a kiss to Charlie’s forehead. “You did good, Kid,” he whispers with a wink. Pushing to his feet, he tilts his head towards Rachel and they wander off into the dark. 

Taking her son, Charlie lays back, Bass on the other side and reaches out to stroke his cheek. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling when he took her hand and brought it to his mouth. 

“No, thank you Charlotte, for everything,” he whispers back, a tear slipping down his cheek. 

As she drifts off to sleep, he caresses her cheek and his heart nearly bursts with the love he feels for her and his son. 

When the last of the fireflies drift away, he’s filled with a sense of hope that this is the beginning of his life. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've lost my beta and the tenses are all over the place. *shrugs*


End file.
